Story Tagged
Yeesh, Mathman, oi
Splotchy started this story... Here's what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don't know how realistic it is, but that's what I'm aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out.
I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)
"That's strange," I said out loud to no one in particular. My fingers slowly reached towards the jar again. My body experienced a wave of apprehension as weighted blanket covering me as I did so. The jar was completely frozen.
I picked it up and stared at it, my fingers stung with little knives of chill. "What the..." again I spoke aloud. Then I realized what had happened with a shock. Suddenly the jar flew from my hand. It shattered creating a collage-like mixture of frozen applesauce and glass shards on my kitchen floor, the lid lazily rolling to a stop across the room. (FranIam)
I stood for a moment considering what all this meant. Oh, I knew what it meant, I didn’t need to waste time thinking about it. He was back. And he was mad.
I ran down the hallway and flung open the door at the end. I was immediately hit with a blast of cold. I took a step back as I tried to catch my breath. I bent over, hands on my knees panting. He always had this remarkable effect on me. After so much time, it no longer scared me, but it was a shock nonetheless……
“You know,” I panted, “There’s no need to break things to get my attention.” (DCup)
I woke up in the same position as in my dream, on my knees. I was sweating even though room was freezing. (mathman6293)
I was used to the house being quite cold in the mornings, as the night log usually burns out around one AM when I am dreaming cozily under my covers, not normally waking to put a new one on until morning. I was surprised because on the rare occasions that it actually had reached sub-freezing temperatures in the house, I had awakened in the night to restart the fire. I would have been worried about the pipes before P-Day, but there hadn’t been running water in two years and that was one of the few advantages to being dependent on rainwater, no pipes. (Freida Bee)
The nightmares began during the following spring. The apple trees came to life in my dreams. At first the trees spoke and I thought they were amusing. That changed when the messages arrived. Lately, their anger was directed at me. (mathman6293)
I have been wracking my brain to figure out why they were so angry with me, of all people. The only thing that it could possible be is that I ate too many apples. Too many apples, can you imagine? I thought that was the whole idea. I mean, they kept coming to me saying, "Here, eat another apple, eat another apple." That night is when the dreams turned to nightmares. Usually I am not one to remember my nightmares, just waking to a vague terror of some sort, but these stuck with me. The applesauce thing is what really terrifies me. (jen)
How's about:
Tams
Dawnia

4 Comments:
Applesauce can be very frightening. Your addition is great.
Here I am again, trying to rationalize the strangeness that is my house, that has become my life. Apples! Honestly. As if it is about the apples at all. I would like to think it is just here, just this house, just this recent place in time that brings “him” to me. I call him a him, but he could be a her. Does a ghost, be it a good or Casper like and friendly cheerful spirit have to have a gender? The cold caress in the night, a harsh slap from nowhere, a chill in my bone, must this presence have a sex? I say it is a him because I can’t bring myself to believe that a woman could be so cold, so vicious in her hauntings. Of course, now that I say that out loud, I realize that is entirely an foolish notion. Women are the coldest of creatures. Perhaps I just want it to be a him, I have always preferred the company of men, even when it is fear that I feel. (Dawnia)
There you go Jen. How do you cut and paste? This is great fun!
Well, damn. I didn't read D's followup until I'd done my own. :::shrug::: Here's mine anyway.
“Bloody Apples!” I fumed as I threw back the covers to greet the new day and the terrors or happiness it might bring. “What was that?” asked Spirit in her sleep, purr filled voice. “I SAID Bloody Apples!!!”, hating to repeat myself. Spirit, in her catty way assumed her sphinx pose and wisely blinked at me. “It’s not the apples that are bothering you, my dear, it’s the redness of them…it’s the blood.” She licked a paw as if she hadn’t said a word then blinked lazily at me. “Do you understand?” she asked, purring softly. She gazed at me, having the eons of past lives lived behind her….gazed at me as if she had all the time in the world for my confused mind to stumble upon the answer. And of course, she did have the time. I had the feeling that my time was running out before disaster struck and I didn’t have the patience to wait for her to come to the point. “What exactly are you talking about?!!” I raged. She licked her paw, swiped her right ear and said…. (Tams)
Love this. You guys took this a fun direction.
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